


horrible

by thisisporky



Category: Mother 3
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Major spoilers for the game, Past Child Abuse, Re-upload
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-31 14:42:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8582380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisisporky/pseuds/thisisporky
Summary: you ungrateful child. you'd make anyone cry.





	

**Author's Note:**

> original upload - somewhere in early 2015. it has since been completely revamped into this shit.

Dad didn't look at me.

  
For the first year, he only did four things in a never ending cycle. Wake up at the crack of dawn, leave me with a list of chores to do, search for Claus, then visit mom's grave. We didn't speak to each other anymore. It wasn't a thing we did the first few days after _then_ had passed.

  
We'd broken apart from our strong father/son bond, and we'd become strangers to each other. The house we lived in slowly started to feel less and less like home. He started to become less and less like my Dad. And I think, as time went on, he saw me less and less as his son.

  
The only time he spoke to me was when he was leaving and I happened to be up, too. I remember he'd look me dead in the eye and say " _today's going to be the day I find him_ ". And at the end of the night, he came back looking frustrated and sad.

  
I knew he blamed me. Deep down, I know he did. He'd blamed me every single day for what happened. Because every time I asked to go to look for him, he'd bow his head and fiddle with his hat, mumbling a weak-felt " _I don't want to lose you, too_ ", or a " _it's too dangerous_ ". He'd mess with the brim of his hat whenever he was annoyed or confident, and he always did it when I asked to help.

  
It got lonely. The only "person" I spoke to was Boney. He'd whine and nuzzle my leg with his nose, and I'd giggle, and then we'd look out to the setting sun as I tried not to cry again. The first year was tough, especially with him not being around anymore. When I realised he wasn't going to be in the house much, I taught myself how to cook. It came out burnt or over done, but I suppose it was a start. 

  
The second year was when the lighting started to strike our house. We talked a bit more, then, even if it was in choruses of " _get this_ " and " _watch that_ " while fixing up the house. We still talked. It was something I hadn't had in a long time - conversation with someone other than Boney. A conversation with my _dad_. Somewhere, I felt a foolish hope that maybe things would start looking up. I was young, after all. Young and still naive. 

  
He'd grown more ratty. He kept doing the same things as the first year, but he voiced his annoyance over the situation rather than locked it away. Always a " _not this time_ ", or " _he's out there somewhere_ ". I'd given up on the third day. All of the village had. He'd just been a desperate father, clinging to the thin threads of hope that he was out there, somewhere, alive and well. That one day he'd find him, and he'd bring him home to us, and then we could continue on with our lives in pure bliss of being together again. I wanted that to be true, too, but even then, I knew it wasn't.

 

I admired his faith.

  
He started to make me feel guilty. " _Claus could have done a better job than you._ " " _Claus would have cleaned better._ " " _Claus could have made better food._ " It hurt every time he said something like that, but I took it in stride. There was nothing I could have done other than take it. He made me feel like he would have rather had _me_ be lost than Claus. That Claus was the better half of us. That he would rather have Claus with him and not me. The suspicions made me feel rotten.

  
I didn't leave the house as much as Flint did. I'd much preferred the walls rather than the scrutiny of an entire village. I'd only been in once or twice in the past two years, and I'd witnessed how it'd changed, which discouraged me further from entering the village square. The crime rate had shot up drastically, the streets being "paved", more "cars" lining the streets. The animals in Sunshine Forest had changed. I'd heard one of the locals say " _the animals in Sunshine Forest were so boring - Snakes, Drago's, mice - how boring! Now we have cooler animals, like chimera's and fusions! All animals should be like that! They would be so much more interesting!_ ", and it disconcerted me so much that I kept Boney inside the house at all times.

  
When I went into the village on the rare occasions to get food, everyone would stare at me. I remember that they would whisper in hushed voices about me, and I knew what they had been saying, even without the PSI to help me. " _There goes that cry-baby Lucas again. All he ever does is cry._ " " _The poor child. He's been through so much._ " " _I wonder if he's gonna start crying again?_ " I remember I hated it.

  
It was in the middle of the second year that it first happened. I knew something was wrong, because he came back earlier than normal. I actually got excited, thinking he'd found him by some rare luck. That I'd finally get to see my brother again, that I'd be able to apologize for everything, that I'd be able to touch and talk and see him physically again. But then I saw him staggering, hat askew and feet tumbling over one another. He could barely walk in a straight line.

  
' _Y-you ... yoooou ..._ ' His voice had been slurred. He slammed the door shut, and I just sat there, watching him, confused. He stumbled over to me, staring at me from down his nose. He'd stunk of something tangy and horrible. In that one moment, I saw his face flash from some-what content to utter rage. ' _Old ... old man Wess's house h-has been destroyed! Gone! Now he ... he lives in some old, shitty house!_ ' It was the first time I'd heard him say a bad word. His face had been red, like he'd been crying. Or he was over-heated. Or angry, maybe. I couldn't tell back then. I remember feeling incredibly nervous. I'd backed up as he walked closer to me. He looked threatening. The picture of his posture is as clear as day in my head.

  
' _So is Alec's house._ ' He continued, starting to sway on his feet like he was in a boat. ' _... Completely shattered, it is. And Issac's place. Thanks to the lighting. Because they didn't have a damn Happy Box, so now h-he has to live in that shit-hole of a home. No questions asked, he just got shoved in there! Reggie lives on the street!_ ' His voice rose, body shaking. ' _And now I have to look for my son. Alone. And I-I can't find him! And you know why? Because of_ you _._ '

  
He'd grabbed me by my shirt collar, hoisting me into the air, his face in mine. His breath smelt vile, and I know now that he was red from anger. He'd had adult drinks.

  
' _It's because of you that I can't find my son. It's because of you that my wife is dead! You,_ you _,_ **you** _! Your fault!_ ' And that's when I got the first knock on the head. It was enough to send me dazed from shock, because it had been so unexpected. ' _Your fault Claus is missing!_ ' Another knock, this time registered as pain. ' _Your fault Hinawa is dead!_ ' Another knock, harder this time. 'Your fault!'

  
He'd dropped me to the ground, turning away as I held my head and cried. ' _You're crying again?! That's all you ever do! You don't actually help, you just cry all day! Shed tears over your guilt! Why should I have to suffer just because of some cry baby?!_ ' He'd stomped his way over to the table, where a bowl full of fruit sat, and my mind jumped to the worst. He eyed it, as if contemplating what he was about to do, then grabbed it and launched it my way with a scream of rage. ... It still echos through my head, sometimes. It's always in the nightmares.

  
The aim had been way off, soaring too far to the right. I was thankful, because I wouldn't have been able to move out of the way otherwise. Glass and fruit shattered everywhere on the wooden floor with a tremendous smash. I'd huddled closer into myself; I'd been powerless. I was glad Boney was outside, in his dog-house. From the corner of my eye, I saw him glaring at me, hands balled to tight, white fists. The image still haunts me to this day.

  
' _I'm gonna beat you. I'm gonna beat you, boy. Daddy's gonna beat you._ '

  
As does his words.

  
In the coming third year, our house had been struck and repaired over 10 times. The locals had said that we should just get a Happy Box so we could be happy, since the lighting and our house was driving away tourists. " _Why couldn't we change with the times?_ " They'd all asked. The locals had looked less like the people we knew. They'd morphed into the monsters that had roamed Sunshine Forest.

  
I went outside the house a lot more. As did Flint - we had stayed away from the house we'd lived in for the past 13 years. I got to see exactly how the village had changed.

  
More of the Pig-Mask guys had moved in. The houses looked bigger and sturdier, and they'd all been quipped with fancy stoves and washing machines. There was such a thing called "business", too, and something to do with "money". I hadn't paid too much attention to the words. I just wasn't interested. I remember going to see what the retirement home looked like, and I'd nearly fallen through a hole in the floor several times. Boney had gotten his paw stuck under the floorboards a few times, too. Alec and Wess had looked well, though, just a bit sad that they'd been cooped up in such a place. Fassad was still around, too. Still manipulating the ever-believing villages. I was just glad the monkey still wasn't with him.

  
A person actually came up to me and asked whether I was "the ever famous cry-baby of Tazmily". He said I didn't look like one, which had its comforts back then, in some ways.

  
There was also a "train station". I'd never seen a "train" before, or a "station". But "trains" are big things that run on "tracks". It was all foreign and new to Tazmily. It had all been new to me. We'd never had anything like this before. Everything had all happened far too soon. People didn't say hello anymore, people didn't give anything out "free" anymore. It was "money or nothing", "business or I don't want to talk to you". I wanted my old life back.

  
In the space of three years, my life had changed so dramatically that I hadn't had any time to adjust to the new rules. All of the other kids had "jobs" at a "Club Titiboo", where they made "money". More strangers flooded to Tazmily, seeking out our house specifically for its famous quality of "the most struck house". The only place that hadn't changed, even now, was Hinawa's grave sight. It was the one place that made me feel some-what safe in the new turned world.

  
The Drago's had disappeared with the new development. The animals of Sunshine Forest had turned into vicious, changed monsters. There are still some of their reminders that slink around the forest today.

 

I missed everything.

 

But now, all of that dust has long since settled. I know that both my mom and Claus are well and resting. They forgive me for crimes they assured I never committed. My dad talks to me as his son again, has apologized countless times over the past, and Boney sleeps in bed with me. Duster plays the bass for us when we're winding down from a long day, and Kumatora burns the pancakes because she turned the heat up too high for the 7th time in a week.

 

I know that people love me. I know that if something bad happens, we'll be here to help each other through it and to try and put things right.

 

And that's enough to settle my scarred heart.


End file.
